


red right hand

by averzierlia



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-26
Updated: 2011-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-20 17:57:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averzierlia/pseuds/averzierlia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t often that one crippled their lover for life. It wasn’t often that said lover didn’t inform one of such and one had to find out secondhand through their rogue telepath. And so he had come to Azazel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	red right hand

**Author's Note:**

> for my ex-girlfriend __forgetmenot__ who is stoned on pain meds and said porn would make her feel better. She wanted Magneto/Azazel porn so, ya. Here we are. It's, er. Not that porny actually, more of an angsty character study.
> 
> Hope you like it sweetie.

“Oh _Erik_ ,” Azazel purrs, and is rewarded with the way that Magneto’s cock jerks. He’s punished with the way that a piece of the metal unwinds itself from Magneto’s headboard and winds itself around his neck, tightening to the point of pain.

“Do not,” Magneto growls, tightening the metal ring around his neck even further, “call me that. _Ever_. _Again_.”

He can barely breathe, and his hips stutter, breaking the rhythm he had going. Magneto lets the metal loosen enough so that Azazel can breathe again, and Azazel isn’t stupid enough to stop or do anything else in retaliation. He just keeps fucking Magneto.

When they first joined Magneto, they’d all expected him to take up with Frost, and if not her than Mystique. Instead he had come to Azazel. If he had to say why, his guess would be as punishment.

It wasn’t often that one crippled their lover for life. It wasn’t often that said lover didn’t inform one of such and one had to find out secondhand through their rogue telepath.

And so he had come to Azazel.

And he wasn’t complaining, far from it. He would take what he could get, considering they were on the run from every government in the world that had heard of mutants, and a few rogue groups outside the government besides.

He had, briefly, considered Mystique – he honestly preferred women and out of the two they had with them he preferred mutants who weren’t telepaths. But Magneto had caught him looking and while Mystique was beautiful, Azazel has the opposite of a death wish.

So, not worth it.

But he didn’t want to be celibate, and he didn’t want to be _dead_ , so despite his…distaste for the male body, he hadn’t turned Magneto down.

“Yes, _Master_ ,” Azazel purrs, and the metal tightens again. He laughs, struggling to breathe, and fucks into Magneto harder. Magneto groans and arches beneath him, eyes falling shut beneath his helmet.

“You like that, don’t you?” Azazel asks, because he knows that Magneto needs him, and until he finds someone else with a power like Azazel’s he can’t kill him. At least not for this, like this.

“No,” Magneto grits out, fingers clutching the metal headboard as the metal twists and bends and _melts_ beneath his fingers. In contrast, the metal around Azazel’s neck doesn’t get any tighter than it is now, tight enough that he has to work to breathe but not tight enough to actually hurt him.

“You do,” Azazel says, and now his voice is clinical. “You like being in charge, like being the one in control.”

He pauses above Magneto, and Magneto’s eyes snap open, anger and loathing plain in his gaze.

In this moment, Azazel knows that none of them will ever be free, because Magneto will never allow anyone to control him again.

It’s not a metal ring around his neck; it’s a collar.

“Fuck me,” Magneto says, flatly. The metal of the collar ripples and twists around Azazel’s neck, and he knows it for the threat it is. He doesn’t actually need to be able to say, talk, to use his power.

So Azazel fucks him, giving Magneto what he views as his penance.

Despite his distaste in men, Azazel has seen many, many naked men, and by extension their dicks, in his service to Shaw. He’s well endowed. He doesn’t know how Magneto found this out, but he’s pretty sure that’s why he asked Azazel and not Riptide.

This is the first time they’ve fucked, but Azazel has the feeling that every fuck they have will be like this: Magneto beneath him but firmly in control, little preparation, and Magneto’s pleasure as an afterthought.

It’s hard and rough and Azazel has sweat dripping off of him, dripping off his nose and chest and sweat causing their hips to stick together with each thrust.

All the metal in the room writhes and that is how Azazel knows that he’s found Magneto’s prostate, found that spot inside him that is going to bring him off and keep Azazel alive, because he knows, _knows_ that if he does this wrong, if he doesn’t give Magneto what he wants, he’s a dead man.

So he fucks him. Gives him exactly what he wants, something that hurts, something that his lover will never feel again, something that Magneto thinks he deserves.

He’s not going to lie to himself inside his own mind: this _is_ something that Magneto deserves. Azazel may never have felt love, may not understand it, but he recognizes it when he sees it.

Xavier had loved Magneto. Magneto had loved Xavier, in as much as he was able.

Azazel shoves into Magneto, again, hard, feeling Magneto’s body clench around him, just this side of too dry, just this side of ripping Magneto open.

It’s a new experience, fucking a man, fucking into something that isn’t dripping wet, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t interesting, if he said he didn’t like it. He likes it, a little. Enough that helping Magneto punish himself won’t be a problem.

He thrusts again, harder, and Magneto gasps wetly beneath him, hand going down to his own cock and stroking, hand a tight vice that Azazel thinks must hurt.

But hurting seems to be what Magneto wants.

He twists his hips and thrusts, and Magneto spills over his hand, stomach, and chest. The metal tightens, convulsively, and Azazel manages one more thrust before he comes, harder than he thinks he ever has in his life.

Apparently he has a thing for fucking sharks.


End file.
